


Cling to me

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s05e11 Kill Switch, F/M, Fluffy, Hurt/Comfort, cuddle fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 09:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15312633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Scully is being all clingy and Mulder is annoyed. Or is he?





	Cling to me

They cling to each other like monkeys. Mulder can barely stand up by himself, let alone walk. But Scully? She just clings to him for no reason. They’re not walking, just standing here at a chicken farm with a burning trailer behind them and sparks of fire falling from the sky like blazing confetti. Mulder is not sure any of this is real. But at least Scully feels real. He holds on to that and to her.

“Scully.” Her name burns his tongue.

“Hm.” She tightens her arms around him. “We need to get you to a hospital, Mulder. We’ll come back tomorrow morning. There’s nothing we can do now.” He shakes his head, feels dizzy from the motion.

“No hospital.” No more nurse Nancy. “Just you.” Words still don’t come easily and his legs feel ready to give up on him. But Scully does not. She pushes against him, her hand caressing his chest. Wait. Why is she caressing him? He’d ask her if the words would only come to him.

“I’m not going to leave you alone tonight,” she says with determination as she more or less drags him one tiny step after another towards the car. He couldn’t protest even if he wanted to.

The next time Mulder wakes up (has he been sleeping? He wonders), his body is no longer as sluggish. He finds himself in Scully’s car, or maybe it’s his even, in front of his building. Scully is just looking at him. Right now he doesn’t feel confident enough to judge her expression. He is not sure of many things this moment.

“We’re home,” Scully says, but she doesn’t make a move to get out of the car. Instead she puts a hand on his thigh. It’s warm and real. He glances down at it. Needs to see it to believe it. He is about to put his own hand over hers when she takes it away. He sighs. “Let’s get you upstairs and into bed.” Mulder has no time to even make a joke before she’s out of the car. His hands are still a bit shaky as he unbuckles the seat belt. Scully opens the passenger door, touches his shoulder.

“You think you can get out of the car by yourself?” He nods not yet trusting his words. Despite her question, Scully takes his hand and helps him out. Then she attaches herself to him. There’s no other word for it. Her arms are around him and she’s leaning into him so heavily that he’s not sure who’s holding up whom. “Just take very slow steps, Mulder,” Scully says.

“Your fingers,” he finds his mouth and tongue work just fine, “are digging into my ribs, Scully.” But she doesn’t let go, just glances up at him.

“I don’t want you to fall down.” 

“I’d prefer to be able to breathe while walking.” Finally, she loosens her grip on him. But only slightly. He sighs and lets her lead him to the elevator. Scully’s hands roam over his body as if searching for something. Or making sure he’s real. He can relate to that. Her hands are on his chest, linger, before they move on to his side scratching lightly, tickling him.

“Uhm, Scully, I appreciate you making sure I’m fine, but…” He gently pushes at her – to no avail. She’s not letting go. Mulder is torn between a chuckle and a groan. And all that comes out of him is a squeak. The elevator dings – finally – and Mulder and Scully, a bundle of legs and arms with no beginning or end, walk towards his apartment. They’re moving slower than a snail crawling backwards and Mulder wonders what Scully would do if he just picked her up and carried her. He’d do it, too, if it weren’t for the lingering drowsiness.

Once they’re inside he expects her to let go, but no. Scully’s grip is as fast as ever. “Do you need help undressing?” She asks him and he’s had it. 

“Scully, are you all right?”

“Shouldn’t I ask you that?” She’s warm and soft and he doesn’t want to complain, but he’s never known her to be so affectionate. He’s used to her touches when he’s sick or hurt; craves them, too. But this is ridiculous.

“Is there a reason for you to be so…”

“So what, Mulder?” Clingy, he thinks. The look in her eyes tells him that he better keep that thought to himself.

“Nothing. I’m just tired. I think.” She nods and her arms are back around him. Of course. He steers them towards his bedroom. He pushes at her again and when she does let go this time, he finds it’s not what he wants after all. He misses her warmth. He sits on the bed and feels his bones sigh. His whole body is exhausted. Scully returns and stares at him a moment; she’s holding a fresh t-shirt and sweatpants in her hands. He shakes his head.

“Mulder, you can’t sleep in these clothes.”

“Can too,” he mumbles. He closes his eyes and waits for her to leave. She doesn’t, though. A moment later the bed dips and there she is right next to him. Nothing about her actions is tentative or uncertain. One arm sneaks around his waist and she puts her head on his chest. Her whole body presses against his side. What if this is not real? Mulder lets his own hand rest on her hip. Unlike her, he is not certain about this at all. She sighs against him, a puff of warm air against his throat.

“Is this real?” The question escapes through his half open, wondering lips.

“Hm?”

“This. When… that thing. I had a dream, or a vision. The AI. It seemed real, too.” Should he tell she was there? That she kicked some serious ass before it all turned to hell? The memory makes him smile. Scully, his savior. No wonder she was clinging to him, continues to do so. He’d sink without her, lose himself, get killed. She knows it.

“Why wouldn’t it be real, Mulder?” Because of you, he thinks. Because you’re clinging to me as if I’m dying. This must be heaven then. His thoughts rush together, begin to be nonsensical. If this is a dream, and Scully’s warm body, her steady breathing and her death grip on him (is she ever going to let go? Does he want her to, really?), are all a part of it then maybe… he wants to stay in this dream a moment longer. He squeezes her waist, just trying it out. Scully sighs and he does it again.

“Mulder, if you do that one more time I’m going to hurt you,” she mumbles into his chest and he smiles. Definitely real.


End file.
